


Kept Boy

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2019-10-21 22:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17651267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Spike becomes Lindsey’s “kept boy” during AtS 5.





	Kept Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sueworld2003](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sueworld2003).



> This is for **sueworld2003** who asked for the scenario set out above.
> 
> Mmmm Yeah. Okay. You pretty much had me right there with all those words there. Hope you like!

The cheap apartment made Lindsey feel like something he never wanted to be: a sleazy shyster, the kind of lawyer who advertises on late-night public access cable.

The ‘vision’ headaches weren’t entirely artifice, anymore. The long con, budgeting, balancing, was wearing on him. So when Spike threw more uncooperative, frankly unheroic smart-ass at him, Lindsey snapped, “You could be doing something to earn your keep, you know.”

Spike scowled. “I save the sodding day. That’s my contribution. Now make with the visions and we’ll get on with it. Not like that last one; that was bollocks. Fyarl snot all over me.”

Lindsey rubbed his forehead. “You could at least try to pretend you give a fuck about anyone other than yourself. You know, like a hero?” He walked to the door. “I’m starting to think I backed the wrong horse.”

Lindsey was shifting through his keys to unlock the truck when Spike ran up behind him, looking apologetic. “Oi, Doyle,” Spike said.

“Don’t want to hear more of your bitching,” Lindsey said. “I’ve got enough of a headache for one night.”

Spike bit his lip and ducked his head. “I’m sorry, all right? I’ll make it up to you.”

Lindsey caught his breath. How did a century-old vampire look so vulnerable and innocent? It had to be a put-on, and that made Lindsey angrier. “Make it up to me? Uprooting my life? Spending all my savings? Mind-splitting headaches? Do you even know how much you have to make up to me?”

“Don’t suppose I do, but I can start, yeah? What do you want?”

Lindsey felt a thrum of sudden, unexpected lust at the question. What did he want? He’d read every file they had on William the Bloody at Wolfram and Hart. He had wondered if he’d ever see the ‘eager to please’ side of the smartass. He’d considered the possibility that it didn’t exist.

But here he was, hands out at his sides, looking earnest and prepared to negotiate.

Lindsey decided to just test the waters a little. “Well, you could start by offering me a beer.”

Spike smiled. “Sure, sure can, mate. Come on back. I have a few.”

Soon they were back in the tiny apartment, on the sofa, drinking the last two beers of a six-pack of some brand Lindsey had never heard of, which was malty and bitter and surprisingly soothing to his headache.

“Doesn’t have to be all business all the time,” Spike said, leaning back. “That’s what I keep trying to tell Ang- uh, people. You do too much, you just drive yourself batty. Better to relax, fight battles as they come.”

“I know about Angel,” Lindsey said. He took a long pull on his beer, watching conflicting emotions flicker across Spike’s face. Resentment? Insecurity? He hoped that one would latch on. “A lot of people think he’s the vampire with a soul the prophecies speak about. The one I should be talking to.”

Anger. Spike scowled at his own, already half-empty bottle. “Bugger that. Anyone can see he’s gotten himself trapped in a devil’s bargain. Well, anyone other than HIM.”

Now that the headache was gone, Lindsey was feeling horny, and the beer was helping lubricate his conscience enough that he set it down and turned to straddle Spike’s lap.

The vampire held his beer wide to protect it from being spilled, but Lindsey noticed he didn’t push him off. “What’s this then?”

“What do you think?” Lindsey rocked his hips, pushing his denim-clad erection against Spike. Three presses and he felt Spike’s dick swelling in response.

Spike finished off his beer in one long swallow and set it down, placing his hands on Lindsey’s hips. “I think your headache’s better.” He pulled Lindsey flush to him and ground upwards slowly and deliberately.

Lindsey’s eyelashes fluttered and he groaned. He could feel the ease with which Spike’s strong hands could move him and the hot friction burning into his cock. He lowered himself down and nipped at the side of Spike’s neck. How long had he been thinking about this? “Got an idea how you can pay me back some.”

Spike stilled.

Lindsey pulled back to look him in the eye, challenging him to say anything. He ground their jean-covered cocks together. “You want it,” he said.

“Yeah, and you’ve gotten hard just about every time you’ve visited me. Why are you making your move now?”

Lindsey shrugged. “Tired of denying it. Had a feeling you’d say yes.”

“I’m not your kept boy.”

Lindsey had a good seat, and he considered the chances he was about to lose it. He reached down and laced two fingers into one of Spike’s belt loops. “I pay your rent,” he said.

“You wanted to. Bugger this, I’ve lived on my own wits for—“

“Sh, easy, hero.” Lindsey resumed rocking, gently. He let his free hand graze down Spike’s chest. “What’s to get so worked up about? We’re both adults here, we’re both men. You owe me big and I’m offering you a chance to cancel that debt doing something you want to do anyway.”

Lindsey watched the pride battling with that well-documented submissive streak. He kept up the pressure on Spike’s dick to help ease the decision along. Didn’t hurt that it was sending sparks of heat through him.

“What is this, Doyle? You want me to roll over and let you fuck me? For this low-rent place?”

“Seems fitting.” Lindsey lowered his lips to Spike’s ear. “You’re a low-rent fuck.”

He felt the shiver of dirty desire at the same time that Spike bucked him. The belt loop ripped and Lindsey nearly fell off, but he grabbed hold of Spike’s arms. They were both sweating now, eyes locked, mutually challenging.

“Go on,” Lindsey said, “Deny it. Tell me you’re a tower of virtue. You never let someone use you? You never got off on being degraded? I’ve got a feeling you know what it’s like to give it up for a lot less than a month’s rent.”

Lindsey knew he’d hit on the right words because Spike looked away, quickly, and when he looked back, his expression was cut off, blankly pretty. “You want to do this, cowboy? No skin off my nose.” His hands passed hard over Lindsey’s sides and pawed his ass. “You’re plenty hot enough for my tastes.”

Lindsey kissed him, then, hard and insistent, and after a moment’s hesitation, Spike gave as good as he got, exploring every part of Lindsey’s mouth while his hands pawed his flesh. The sheer tawdriness of it all had Lindsey pulling back lest he come in his pants.

Spike obligingly popped Lindsey’s fly open and reached in, deliciously cool fingers working over his heated cock. He deftly pried Lindsey out of his jeans without catching him on his zip. His thumb gathered the dribbling pre-cum and smeared it down the shaft in a delicious, almost tight enough squeeze. His other hand cradled Lindsey’s balls, giving them just enough room. The way his fingertips touched behind – gentle, even pressure – added a thick, deep smolder to the lust already burning upward through Lindsey.

“You’ve done this before,” Lindsey said, flexing into his grip.

“I’ve done all kinds of things before. You might not want to hear about all of them.”

“Murder?” Lindsey asked. “Rape?” Spike got a dangerous look, something controlled, held back. Lindsey liked it. He pushed Spike’s shirt up. “Come on, take it off. It’s my dime, isn’t it? I want to see you.”

Spike sneered at him, but he let go of Lindsey’s cock long enough to whip his t-shirt off over his head in one boneless move. Lindsey had wanted to feel that chest since the first time he’d seen it, in grainy surveillance photos. He ran his palms up it now and laid full-length, fucking into those talented hands. “Jeans too. Or are you hoping to make me come before we even do anything?”

“Seems like I’m doing all the work,” Spike said, but he toed off his boots.

“Isn’t that the idea?” Lindsey decided to be nice, though, and undid Spike’s fly for him. His own fingers eagerly sought out the silk-over-steel feel of Spike’s cock. It was cooler, as expected, but there was something wrong about that, like a sex toy. Another dribble of fluid leaked out of his own shaft. Lindsey pulled and pushed denim frantically. He didn’t have long to get inside that delectable ass before he spilled.

Spike put a hand on his chest and pushed him back firmly. “Slick?”

“You don’t need it.”

“The fuck I don’t. Haven’t you fucked a bloke before?”

“Yeah, I have.” Lindsey hopped off the couch to pull Spike’s jeans the rest of the way off. Spike was sprawled, unashamed, completely naked, his hard-on only flagging a little. “You’ll heal.”

“Sod that.” Spike lunged forward and Lindsey had a moment of stomach-plunging fear, but the vampire wasn’t going for his neck. A cool wet tongue slurped the head of his cock and long fingers pulled his jeans further down. Lindsey hissed and squeezed the base of his shaft while a wicked tongue did subtle, fantastic things.

He grabbed Spike by the hair to hold his balance for the moment it took to put his foot on Spike’s chest and kick him back. His cock left Spike’s mouth with an obscene pop. “That’s enough. I want to come in your ass.”

“It’s not enough slick.”

“Don’t be a pussy.”

There was a long moment where Lindsey feared Spike would stop playing along, but then he was crawling back onto the sofa, lifting his legs up and spreading himself.

Lindsey was on him in a hot second, kissing him, biting his lip. He fumbled around until his fingers found Spike’s opening and pushed hard inside. The vampire hissed and stiffened, but didn’t stop Lindsey from lining up his spit-slick cock and pushing it home. The extra friction burned, but it helped him not lose his load the second he was in. He took a moment to adjust and kissed Spike again, more gently.

Spike kissed back. “Asshole.”

“Yup. And a mighty fine one.” Lindsey flexed slowly, groaning at the tightness. He ran his hands down Spike’s thighs and thought, Angel was here. It made his dick twitch and he almost came right then. Instead he bit his lip hard and reached for Spike’s flagging erection.

The scent of blood must not have hurt because Spike’s cock perked up quite nicely in Lindsey’s fist as Spike licked Lindsey’s lower lip. Lindsey chased his tongue back into his mouth and started thrusting in earnest. Soon enough, coercion or not, Spike was fucking into his fist and back into his thrusts, almost harder than Lindsey could take. He let go of Spike’s cock to grab the back of the sofa and anchor himself so he could thrust with equal strength. Spike obliged by stripping his own cock, his knuckles slamming into Lindsey’s stomach as he thrust forward. It felt so dirty against his shirt, which he’d never taken off, and he was sweaty and too hot and they were almost fighting each other, struggling to come first because they both knew the other wasn’t going to help them over the finish line.

Lindsey just had to let go, let himself feel it, and it was so good, so freeing, nothing in his head but the pleasure and the sordid situation. He felt his orgasm build like it came from all the way down in his toes. Time stopped, everything crystal clear and still, and then he was pouring spunk deep into Spike’s ass. Lindsey only knew that he’d cried out because his throat was a little sore. He fell bonelessly forward and felt Spike grunt, his fist still moving frantically. Lindsey propped himself up with his forearms on Spike’s chest and said, “Look at you, hero, only interested in getting yourself off.”

Spike grimaced, his eyes widened with something like panic, but he was already shooting his load. Lindsey smiled. He didn’t know if he’d timed that perfectly or if it had tipped him over the edge. He pushed himself up and ran a hand down the trail of spunk soaking into his flannel shirt. He flicked it off his fingers onto Spike’s stomach. “Thanks, champ. You owe me a new shirt.”

Spike was staring at him in pure, naked hurt. Lindsey felt a squeeze in his heart. “Hey,” he said, and unbuttoned the shirt. He dropped the soiled garment and sat down next to Spike, pulling him into his arms. “It’s all right. Just some fun, right? Just two consenting adults.”

He felt Spike’s clenched body loosen by degrees. “Just a couple blokes,” Spike offered.

Lindsey kissed his neck. “Come on, let’s move to the bed before we fall asleep on this uncomfortable piece of shit.”

***

Spike laid awake. Doyle was warm and pliant beside him, heart beating steadily, smelling of sweat and the outdoors and aftershave. It was nice.

Except he couldn’t shut himself up, inside. He was horrified at himself, ashamed, miserable. Used. Dirty. Beneath… everyone. Had this really started with an argument about being insufficiently heroic? How was this heroic? He just whored himself out for rent. He’d given it up before, for a lot less. It hadn’t bothered him before the soul.

Or had he? He watched Doyle’s chest rising and falling against his side, tan skin against pale. Hadn’t he said it was just… just a thing. A little role play in the bedroom. Spike took a long slow breath and told himself to stop being such a nancy.

Doyle stirred at his side. Mussed hair hanging in his face. With that chest and those tats, he really was gorgeous, especially blinking sleepily.

Spike kissed his forehead and extracted his arm from under him. “Stay and rest..”

A hand clasped his wrist as he started to sit up. He looked back.

Doyle’s expression was cold. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Spike felt a building dread. “Still a bit of night left, think I’ll get some slaying in.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’? I’m supposed to be the hero, remember?”

Doyle pulled his hand closer, down to his filling cock. “We’re going again, hero, and we’re done when I say we’re done.”

Spike stilled. Not for the first time that night, he thought he should stop this, just put a stop to it now before it went any further.

Not for the first or last time that night, he didn’t.

The End


End file.
